


Recycle, Reuse, Resent, Refuse

by musiclily88



Series: Wasted Youth// There Wasn't Much to Waste [12]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Depression, Drug Use, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, I am so sorry, Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Abortion, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Sexual Content, Underage Drinking, what even am i doing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-17
Updated: 2013-10-17
Packaged: 2017-12-29 15:32:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1007060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musiclily88/pseuds/musiclily88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Oh my god,” Liam cut in, grimacing. “Please light me on fire, I can’t watch this anymore.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Recycle, Reuse, Resent, Refuse

**Author's Note:**

> This story is eating my brain. It won't let me sleep. I've already started the next chapter and just needed to post this damn thing so I can stop editing it and obsessing over it and just--yeah. I AM SO SORRY.
> 
> xx

“If you break another thing in this house, I swear to god I’ll kick your Irish arse.” Louis lounged into a wooden Adirondack chair in the back garden, nursing a pint glass full of wine.

“Why does everyone always reference my nationality when trying to insult me?” Niall called from where he was attempting to light fireworks with a wet match.

“Because us English folk love reminding the Irish how much better we are than them!” He raised his glass. “Sláinte.” Then he tipped his head back and drained the drink, gasping as he released it from his lips.

“Them’s fighting words, ya cunt.”

“You think I don’t know that? Bring it, ya paddy bastard!” Louis set down his empty glass, throwing an arm into the air.

“Shut it, please,” Zayn said, rolling his eyes and lighting up a spliff. “Seriously.”

“Says you,” Louis replied. “You didn’t want him doing this either.”

“And yet I’m here. So clearly I have no idea what I want or what’s good for me,” Zayn answered with a shrug, earning a sharp glance from Liam. “Whatsoever. Wholesale.”

“Really?” Liam asked, prominent brows raised high onto his forehead near his fringe.

“Clearly. No idea what I’m doing. For some reason I’m still stuck around this place.” Zayn waved vaguely into the air, settling into a chair not far from Louis. Liam and Harry wandered after him slowly, Harry at his usual slow amble and Liam looking tense.

“I’m flattered, mate, really I am. Sticking around to stare at my majestic self,” Louis retorted, flicking Zayn the V. “Is it the arse or what?”

“Shove it, you’re the one being an arse,” he said immediately, voice low and raw.

Louis flicked his eyes up to Liam, who was still staring at Zayn with a dark gaze. “Sorry, I suppose,” he gritted out, insistent on _making an effort_ and _genuinely trying._ Even if he knew trying was pointless at this stage in the game. “Sorry, but not sorry. I’m making an effort, right, innit. You’re awesome, let’s be partners in crime til the day we die. Matching tattoos for the partners in crime.”

Zayn snorted. “You’ve committed crimes?”

“How many times did I give molly to you? Not to mention when I gave it to everyone else,” Louis said lightly, shrugging. “So, like. I had to get it from somewhere, and distributing it is yet another crime.”

“A boring crime,” Zayn said, bending forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“You’re too much of a goody-goody to appreciate the things I’ve done!” Louis cried at last. “Also, is there a _thing_ happening here?” he asked next, pointing to Liam, Harry, and Zayn in turn. “Because you three are acting weird and synchronized and I have no idea if it’s because I’m drunk or not.”

“You’re always drunk,” Niall called, elated. “Like me!”

“Stop saying I’m like the Irish. I refuse to defect.”

“I’ll convert you eventually.”

“What do you mean, weird?” Liam asked in return to Louis’ question, eyebrows furrowed.

“Dunno, Leem. You tell me.” Louis stretched his arms into the air, waggling his fingers. “Also, Niall, you should probably nick Zayn’s lighter rather than use the matches that fell into your drink.”

“God, you all need a fucking chaperone,” Zayn huffed, rolling his eyes.

“You volunteering?” Harry asked brightly, shooting him a dimpled grin as he shimmied his hips forward.

“No fucking way. I’m honestly not sure _anyone_ can keep a handle on you. Crazy person.”

Harry bit his lip, schooling his face into a predatory smolder. “You’re welcome to try.”

“No.” Zayn waved him away, not even having the good grace to appear perturbed. “No way, nope, not going to happen. Turn off the charm. Too weird. Switch back to looking like a deranged wood nymph and not like you want to want to eat my face off.”

“I don’t want to eat your face _off,_ just like—maybe lick this bit here,” Harry responded, gesturing to one of Zayn’s cheekbones. His fingers ghosted over Zayn’s skin, barely an inch away.

“Oh my god,” Liam cut in, grimacing. “Please light me on fire, I can’t watch this anymore.”

“Louis, your friend is weird,” Zayn said in a sing-song voice, standing up to move away from the other three. He feigned an interest in Niall’s fire-starting technique.

“He’s just got a lotta love to give,” Louis reasoned. “Give it time. Gets less weird with time.”

Harry prodded at a spot on the top of his own head. “It’s this bit right here. Controls expression of affection and also sexual attraction.”

“Shut up. That’s not even a real thing, stop acting like it’s a real thing.” Zayn, worn down, handed Niall his lighter and stood back as though ready to watch a spectacle.

“Whatever you say,” Harry replied amiably, moving forward to watch Niall struggle with the pyrotechnics. 

“Everyone stand back, please,” Niall announced, flicking Zayn’s lighter. Harry stayed near Niall’s shoulder, warnings unbidden, as Liam and Zayn backed away slightly.

“Don’t get too close to me,” Louis requested, though he was unsure if anyone but Liam and Zayn heard him. “I’m particularly flammable.”

“Flaming, even,” Zayn said, rolling his eyes.

“Rude. I meant more like m’drunk to the gills.” Louis leaned down, grabbing the open wine bottle to pour himself another drink. “Come to think, you’re rude a lot. Not sure why I keep you around.”

“Cuz Liam likes me,” Zayn answered, slinging an arm around Liam’s shoulders. He finished his spliff in silence as Louis considered his statement.

“That. And prolly cuz I hate myself and you’re the only one mean enough to confirm my suspicions.”

“Lou,” Liam whispered, face pained.

“Whatever. I get bored easily, but the insults have yet to get boring.”

Liam leaned down, stroking Louis’ jawbone with his thumb. He shrugged out of Zayn’s grasp gently. “You’re not as bad as you think you are, you know,” he added, kneeling in front of Louis.

“I have my moments of being pretty bad.”

“Drama queen,” Zayn insisted with a shrug. “Not like you’ve killed anyone or something.”

“I’ve genuinely considered it. Today, yesterday especially. Wonder if I’d get away with it.”

“Stop,” Liam murmured, gripping Louis’ knee.

“Probably not,” Zayn said, barreling over Liam’s words. “And your arse can’t handle prison. Like, literally, here, not figuratively.”

“You talk too much for someone as pretty as you are,” Louis whispered, shutting his eyes, leaning into Liam’s grasp on his leg.

“You’re just sore I’ve got the cheekbones in this relationship,” Zayn replied, sharp smile apparent in his sly words.

“Lads,” Liam began nervously.

“You really get off on being mean to me, don’t you?” Louis asked, eyes snapping open. He stared at Liam, face closed off, his question meant for Zayn.

“Me? Shit, mate, I think you’re talking about what you get off on, not me. Sadistic and masochistic, you are. In my limited experience.”

“Says the bloke who threw an ashtray at me post coitus,” Louis countered, eyes still focused on Liam’s face. He drank in the image in front of him, sparing at glance at Liam’s pillow-full lips, his deep brown eyes, his feather-light lashes. Louis considered biting down on his jaw, sucking a mark into his neck. He got lost in Liam. “You’re the same kind of bad as me,” Louis whispered, languidly swinging his head to finally look at Zayn.

Zayn clenched his jaw, tongue pressed onto his upper lip in front of his teeth. He sucked at his gums, considering. “But at least I make it look good,” he countered, curling his lips into a sneer.

“Good enough to pass in the daylight, maybe. Not gonna be a model anytime soon.”

“Louis,” Liam warned, jaw clenched, eyes dark again.

“I’m still prettier than you, mate. You know you’ll never forget that. In fact? Yeah, I’m banking on the fact you won’t forget it.”

“Fuck you both,” Liam whispered, removing his hand from Louis’ knee. He stood and walked to Niall, presumably to watch him light fireworks and act an arse.

“You’re no good,” Zayn muttered, eyes bright. He bit his lip but refrained from touching Louis.

“Good enough for me, mate.”

“That’s a bit not healthy.”

“I don’t know how to be healthy, though. Like. Obviously. Don’t know anything, really.”

“Yet you’re still really into Liam?” Zayn asked. His voice was bright but Louis knew he was contemplating violence.

“Course I am, of course. Wouldn’t do this bullshit otherwise.”

“You love Harry a bit though?”

“As a close mate, but like, not the same as. You know? Liam’s like the end-all. You get it.” Louis shrugged, taking a long pull of wine.

“I do?”

“Liam’s your end-all. You’re gonna end up together, you know. I get it. I actually—get it.”

“What?” Zayn’s lips curled into an angry sneer.

“Stop playing a fool. Annoying, innit.”

“You can’t just say shit like that, fuck.”

“It’s funny because you don’t realize it. And neither does he,” Louis added dreamily.

“You know, this cold-blooded thing isn’t cute, okay? It isn’t new, being the wounded hero of some little story you’re telling yourself. This is real, and you’re fucking it up.”

“What else am I supposed to do? It’s all I know,” Louis breathed into the afternoon light.

“Your self-pity game isn’t gonna take you places. Tears of a clown, yeah? It’s cliché for a reason.”

“And yet here you are. Can’t tear yourself away. So what does that make you? Just as foolish and possessive as me? Just as full of self-loathing that you’ll drag yourself around while the person you love fucks someone else in the next room?”

“I hate you,” Zayn whispered after a drawn-out pause.

“You’re stealing all my lines.” Louis tipped his head to one side, smirking. 

His eyes flicked up as Harry approached them.

“What’s wrong?” Harry asked, eyeing them both.

“The jazz age is a sham. The party is over. Now I’m waiting for someone to shoot me in the pool.”

“I volunteer,” Zayn growled, lips thin and pale with anger.

“Enjoy the scenery and the liquor but not my company, is that it?” Louis gripped his wine as hard as he could without breaking glass.

“If I thought I could kill you and get away with it, you’d already be dead.”

“Whoa, this went a dark place. Not really liking this side of you, Zayn,” Harry murmured jokingly, folding his long arms across his chest with a sappy smile.

“Too fucking bad. I’m not here to make you happy.”

“Leave him alone,” Louis barked. “Or get the fuck out.”

Zayn flicked his eyes up, looking at Harry with a small smile. “Interesting.”

“What is?” Louis snapped, still gripping the neck of the wine bottle so tightly his fingers hurt.

“Interesting who you choose to stand up for. That’s all.”

“The meddling thing, that’s cute. Adorable, even. And so, so petty.” Louis swallowed thickly. “I’d have thought you were better than that.”

“Oh,” Harry said quietly. “I’m just gonna go.” He thumbed over his shoulder. “Before you, um, rip each other’s clothes off and have really angry sex. And, like, scream.”

“That’s not going to happen,” Zayn ground out, voice low. His tone stopped Harry in his tracks.

“Not anymore. Seems you’re thirsty for it, though, no? Damn shame.” Louis flicked his fringe out of his eyes.

“I fucking hate you.”

“I don’t understand what the fuck you’re still doing here, then. You can’t honestly be gagging for it that much. If you actually hate me? Subjecting yourself to hours and days of spending time with me, just so—what? He’ll see you’re putting in an effort? And notice what a good guy you really are. Drop me and go running to you?”

Harry’s jaw dropped, eyes wide. He took two steps backward, away from the pair of them.

“Whereas you’re so much better off, throwing ridiculous ragers so you can pretend you don’t notice mummy and daddy are never around?”

“Wow,” Harry gaped. “These are—quite the cutting personal remarks.”

“You really don’t want me to start in on you right now. If I start I probably won’t stop.” Zayn shot him a terrible, miserable glare.

“Think I’m just gonna leave you two to it,” Harry agreed, walking away slowly.

“Shots fired, then?” Louis asked, eyes gone cold. “You can’t fuck away the anger anymore, you know. Least not with me.”

“You do this on purpose, don’t you? Get off on being mean to me. Not the other way around.”

“Well. Doubtful it’ll last forever. He’ll figure out I’m a piece of trash eventually. And if you’re really so wounded, nothing’s got you tethered to the floor or anything. You’re free to do whatever it is you do when I’m not torturing you.”

“Yeah. Right.” Zayn ran his fingers along his tattooed forearm, jaw clenched.

Louis considered this for a long moment. “You think you deserve it, don’t you? Like this is your new version of cigarette burns with the added bonus of you getting to spend time with Liam.”

“I don’t do the cigarette burn thing anymore,” Zayn agreed quietly.

“Yeah, well as fun as the verbal abuse bit is, I like to be aware when someone’s trying to manipulate me.”

“How good a manipulator would I be if you knew I was doing it?”

“You _are_ doing it!” Louis insisted.

“I never said that. Just. I’m here and—and I don’t know why.” Zayn huffed out a loud breath. “And it makes me angry. Not, you know, your house specifically, but here. On earth. Life.”

“You’re grappling with existentialism? Now? While three morons try not to light their faces on fire and I’m yet again the drunkest person in the room?”

“We’re outside.”

Louis shrugged. His throat burned. “How were you planning to kill me? In your fantasies.”

“Oh, they were pretty creative, actually.” Zayn’s voice was quiet, dipped low. “I was going to cut through most of the brake-line on your Porsche, so the brakes eventually give out but not right away? Or like drugging you, then rigging you up to look like you strangled yourself during autoerotic asphyxiation. With, like, a huge plug stuck in you.”

“Christ,” he said, digging into his trackie pockets to locate his packet of cigarettes, moving to snake Zayn’s lighter out of his pocket before realizing Niall still had it. “You’re going to chloroform and anally rape me? Christ, maybe you are a bad person after all.” He rummaged in his own pockets before discarding the idea of smoking.

“I’m not done. I think the easiest one was shoving you off a building and making it look like you jumped. Favorite was impaling you with an icicle.”

“You’d get caught, you know. You’re like. Smart but not that smart.”

“I am that smart, actually. But I’ll let you stick around a bit longer so I can watch you crash and burn. Might be fun.”

“Like you have any say in it,” Louis scoffed. “This is ending on my terms or not at all. You know that.”

“Such a fucking control freak. It’s not all about you, you know.”

“Sometimes, sometimes it is. Because, let’s face it, you’re still here.”

“Maybe I’m here for Harry. You don’t know.” Zayn bit his lip. “What’s he like in bed? He looks—coltish a bit, but I bet he’s flexible, right?”

“Shut it.”

“Did he tie you down? Cover your mouth with one of his big hands until you came so hard you cried?” Zayn whispered. “Nah, probably not his style. Too malleable, happy to let you dominate. Stroked your ego. Smiled his goofy smile as he let you call him a slut? Shyly asked you to come on his face?”

“Leave him alone.”

“Made you feel like a man? Big and strong, like you could do whatever you wanted to him and he’d thank you for it? That he’d let you rip him apart and he’d still smile at you like you were the sunrise? He’d let you destroy him, you know.”

“Leave him alone.”

“I don’t have to leave him alone. Not when he wants to lick my cheekbones. Not with the way he keeps staring at me. Think about it, Lou. D’you think I could pin both his wrists with just one hand? See how far he can take me down til he gags?” Zayn leaned closer, putting his mouth close to Louis’ ear. “Wonder how hard you are right now, hm?” He pulled away, face a fierce mask. He planted a kiss on Louis’ forehead.

Louis’ legs were weak, his grasp on reality faltering, but he still managed to speak. “Leave him alone.”

“We both know I don’t have to.”

“Are you trying what, trying to get me to punch you, to show everyone just how obnoxious I am? Show you’re the better choice? Trying to blow off some steam while watching me bone the man of your dreams? What is it? Why do you do it?”

“Why not? Why shouldn’t I do it? What’s stopping me, anymore?”

“I dunno, Christ, human decency?”

“A made-up phrase, as far as you’re concerned. Don’t know why you think I’d bother with it.” He blinked slowly at Louis, brow raised. “If I’m the same kind of bad as you.”

Louis shook his head, stunned into gaping silence. He turned his head away from Zayn, his extremities trembling. He watched the others fool around with various fireworks. Niall seemed especially fond of the bottle-rockets, pretending to shoot them in Liam’s face or miming fellatio on them. After a few minutes, Zayn ambled over and offer to help, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his leather jacket.

Many minutes passed.

He watched and waited as Gemma entered the garden, plucking at Harry’s sleeve to indicate her desire to leave. Harry waved to Liam, Zayn, and Niall, looking surprised when Niall pulled him into a one-armed hug.

“Don’t be a stranger!” he added, bopping Harry on the head with a rocket.

Harry shrugged. “Sounds good.” He walked over to Louis, Gemma a step behind him. “Hey, Lou. We’re gonna head out.”

Louis stood up, wine in the near-empty wine bottle sloshing as he set it down. He yanked Harry into a rough hug, hipbones pressing into Harry’s thighs. “Thanks for sticking around. Come back any time. You too, Gemma. Plenty of room for everyone, innit?”

“Right.” Gemma nodded, face cautious. “Thanks for the hospitality.”

“Yeah, it was good to see you.”

“I let Lottie know it’s—that she can call me. If she wants.”

“I’m sure she will,” Louis said slowly, nodding. “Thank you for that. For helping her.”

“Of course.” Her face softened.

“You okay?” Harry added. “That—you and Zayn?”

“Yeah, fine. Thanks.” He shrugged. “No big thing.”

‘”Right. Talk later.” He pressed a kiss onto the crown of Louis’ head. Then he and Gemma left the back garden, skirting the edges of the house in order to move to the front where their car was parked.

Louis swept up the wine bottle, chugging the remaining contents. He stalked over to the others, grabbing Liam’s hand. “I need you. Niall, Zayn, don’t burn down the house.”

Niall began laughing loudly while Zayn simply smirked knowingly. “All right,” Liam agreed easily, making Louis’s stomach bottom out, making him turn his hatred on himself. He ignored that feeling and yanked Liam into the house.

Even before the back door whispered shut, Louis pounced on Liam, pressing hot kisses onto his jaw, lips wet and teeth harsh. Raspberry-coloured bruises bloomed everywhere his lips touched, slick and jagged.

Liam pressed his fingers hard into Louis’ hips, doubtless leaving marks of his own. “Are—” he gasped as Louis bit down especially roughly. “Are we not even gonna make it to your room?”

“Need you,” Louis complained, tugging at the hem of Liam’s shirt, backing them into the kitchen table. He again attached his lips to Liam’s jaw, sucking in hard.

“And what’ll we use for lube, eh? Butter?”

“Spit and a prayer. Anything. Nothing.”

“We’re gonna need something. Just—hold on, damn.” He batted at Louis’ hands, grabbing both of them in one of his own. “Slow down for like half a second.”

“Upstairs. I have some upstairs.” He trailed along behind Liam, who still held his hands tightly, pulling them jointly up the stairs into Louis’ room. He only tripped once, on the top step of the staircase. 

Louis kicked the door shut, pressing himself into Liam’s personal space. “Nightstand,” he murmured into Liam’s cheekbone. “It’s all on the nightstand.”

“Oh.” Liam detached himself, making Louis whine. Rather than complain, he quickly shucked off his shirt and tossed it aside, stepping out of his shoes.

“I want you to top me,” Louis said abruptly, making Liam pause. 

He turned, with a hooded gaze. “Really? There’s usually more of an argument than this. Fights, even.”

“It’s what I want. I’m not really interested in fighting right now.” He leaned forward, undoing the fly of Liam’s jeans before fluidly pulling them down. He hooked two fingers into the waistband of Liam’s boxer-briefs, yanking them to his knees.

“Eager, eager,” Liam stuttered, laughing lightly. He inhaled sharply, watching Louis lick his palm before Louis took him in hand, pumping quickly until he was half-erect. After Louis had been pumping for minutes at a time, Liam asked, “This is gonna be quick and dirty, isn’t it?” He awkwardly stepped out of his jeans and pants, discarding them distractedly, trying not to disconnect from Louis’ grasp.

“And mean,” Louis added, continuing to run his fist up and down along Liam’s length. “Quick and dirty and mean.”

“Mean?”

“Please.”

“O-okay, but I still—need to prep you,” Liam said, hesitation apparent in his tone.

“Go ahead.” Louis spun around, fingers light on the waistband of his trackies and pants. He pulled them off his backside and leaned forward, body half-bent over his bed. He pressed his palms onto the bedspread, arms straight in front of him. His semi pressed into the fabric, tenting it out against the duvet beneath his pelvis.

Louis heard Liam open the lube, and then he felt the cool press of Liam’s finger against him. He bit his lip, pressing his arse into Liam’s touch. “Come on. Fingers, hurry up.” Liam huffed out a laugh, putting one finger inside him, thrusting languidly. He quickly pushed in another, pulsing them in and out, picking up speed. He fucked Louis on two digits, carefully pressing forward and in. He scissored his fingers out, stretching Louis open carefully.

“Almost there,” Liam murmured, bending low to press his lips against Louis’ neck.

Louis reached a hand back to grab Liam’s free fist, snaking it back in front of them—grounding himself. “M’ready.”

“Are you s—”

“Ready.”

Liam removed his fingers, leaving Louis momentarily bereft. Louis heard a condom wrapper ripping, presumed Liam had torn it with his teeth. “I need my other hand for a second, Lou,” Liam whispered. Louis let his fist go, heard Liam roll the condom onto his cock. He lined up the angle right, pressing his torso down against Louis’ back, moving their bodies forward against the duvet. Then he grabbed Louis’ hands in his own, pinning them down against the bed. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, course.”

Liam boxed Louis’ body in with his thick arms and broad chest. He pressed forward with his cock, entering Louis slowly, moment by moment, until he bottomed out. Louis hissed with each inch, relishing in every sensation rocketing through his body. He even relished the way each hiss echoed in his mouth, the way his body bent forward as if on a curve.

“Are we—good?”

“Yeah, ready,” Louis assured him.

“Good.” Liam pressed his lips into the back of Louis’ neck before retreating, pulling out nearly all the way. With a nip at Louis’ ear, he slammed his body forward, rocking their bodies against the mattress, knocking the bed into the wall artlessly.

Louis groaned loudly, body hot all over. His own dick was aching beneath him, the movements not yet offering enough friction for release. He tried to press harder into the bed but was held tight. Liam snapped his hips back, arching out of Louis momentarily before snapping forward again.

“Fuck, you’re tight. I always forget how tight you are. Feels—fuck,” Liam exhaled, shoving back and forth erratically. He pinned Louis’ body down into the bed harder, strengthening his grip on Louis’ hands.

Louis grunted slightly, face pressed into the duvet. Liam sped up the pace, making them both moan, voices mingling amidst the sound of skin slapping and ragged breathing. And Louis was hard, blindingly hard, aching with his hands pinned to his sides and his body caged against Liam and the shuddering mattress.

Louis squeezed his eyes shut, vision going fuzzy about the edges and into the middle. Liam continued to rear back and slam forward at a punishing pace, slamming into him until everything went dark and quiet and still. Louis lost himself in the speed of it, the unrelenting _forward, pounding, down._ He lost himself within it, lost track of how long they were connected, only paid attention to the fingers twined in his, the fullness inside him, the press of their skin, the kisses on his neck, the slap of their hips.

He keened as Liam came inside him, spilling warmth into his body, biting down on Louis’ shoulder with a low, lingering grunt. With Liam’s teeth biting harshly into the taut skin by his neck, Louis came with an unintelligible shout, ragged voice muffled by the duvet against his face. He shuddered forward, body seizing, muscles tight. His come pooled inside his clothing, sticking to his skin and to his pants.

He and Liam caught their breath slowly, Louis having a difficult time with his face pressed into the fabric on the bed. Liam slowly unclasped his hands from Louis’ fingers, joints creaking with the effort. He arched his back upward, freeing Louis from his pinned position against the mattress.

Liam pulled out slowly, Louis’s jaw clenching as the soreness hit him, full-bodied and raw. His toes tingled, his back ached. He felt renewed and hurt and slightly hollowed-out.

He vaguely heard Liam remove the condom and tie it off, dropping it into the bin. “Fuck, you’re amazing,” Louis muttered, pushing up off the mattress, standing up straight.

“You all right?” Liam asked him quietly, finally turning to look him in the eye.

“I’m great. Bit sticky.” Louis yanked his trackies back up over his arse, feeling suddenly exposed and vulnerable.

“Did—I hurt you or anything?”

“I don’t mind.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Liam retorted, serious and quiet.

“I like it. Sometimes.”

“Oh.”

“Not all the time.”

“Right.”

“M’gonna shower. You wanna join?”

“M’kinda starving actually. Is it cool if I make—?”

“Yeah,” Louis interrupted him. “The kitchen’s all yours.”

“You know, I should probably go home one of these days. Let my mum know you haven’t poisoned me.”

“Oh. Sure.” Louis bit his bottom lip, worrying against it with his teeth. He said nothing more.

“Want me to make you anything?”

“Nah, not hungry.” Louis had no idea if he was hungry or not. He hadn’t stopped to think on it.

“Right.” Liam stepped back into his pants and jeans before swooping down to kiss Louis on the corner of his mouth. He left the room with Louis standing in the center of it.

Louis entered his bathroom and turned the water scalding hot. He dropped his clothes onto the bathmat, entering the shower with his eyes closed and back turned toward the steaming stream of water. He pressed his palms against the shower wall, arms outstretched, leg muscles tensely supporting his body. He let his back go numb from the force of the pounding spray, felt his body leaking sticky moisture. He felt water on his face and he knew it wasn’t from the shower.

**Author's Note:**

> Lovelies, if you want to scream at me, my tumblr is   
> musiclily.tumblr.com


End file.
